Adam studied her with his devil-may-care green eyes before slowly pulling his arm away. Today, he was dressed in the uniform of the president’s protective detail—a dark suit, a pin in the lapel, and an earpiece disappearing into the collar of his white shirt. And he was looking at her as if he couldn’t decide if she was a ticking bomb or a plate of nachos he wanted to devour.
Marin took a giant step back, adjusting her chef’s jacket as she did so. She longed to ask him if Griffin was near. Except she wasn’t sure whether she wanted Adam’s answer to be yes or no.
“Yeah, crowds have a way of making certain people twitchy,” he drawled.
She had the funny feeling Adam meant something else with his words, but before she could contemplate them further, Simon, one of the assistant ushers was at Marin’s shoulder.
“Excuse me, Chef Marin,” Simon whispered. “We’re setting up the tables for the luncheon. But we can’t seem to find the centerpieces.”
“Diego put them in the cold storage room with the flowers,” Marin said.
“Ah, mystery solved.” Simon nodded and turned back toward the White House.
“Wait,” Marin called after him. “Diego knew where they were. Why didn’t you just check with him?”
Simon shook his head. “He didn’t show up for work today, Chef.”
No!
There was that tremor running down her spine again. Marin dug her cell phone out of her pocket and hit Diego’s number. Her call went straight to voicemail. Adam’s hand was on her shoulder before she realized her whole body was shaking. There had to be a simple explanation for why Diego wasn’t at work. Although it wasn’t like him to just not show up. Especially on a day as busy as this one. Maybe he left a message on her office voicemail? That had to be it. She’d just go and check. And after that, she’d help out in the kitchen where she belonged.
Marin shook off Adam’s grip. “Simon, wait for me.”
The assistant usher glanced around anxiously. “The First Lady left instructions that you were to have the day off.”
Marin’s godmother was nowhere in sight. “Don’t worry about her.” Marin needed to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied or else she’d go crazy.
Adam reached for her arm again. “Marin, are you sure you’re okay?”
“No.” The word came out like a screech. “I’m not okay. People around me keep getting hurt, or”—she swallowed painfully—“or dying. Now Diego is missing. And I can’t seem to breathe normally. I can’t stand around doing nothing, waiting for Diego to show. Because hehas toshow up.” Swallowing a sob, she turned and rushed after Simon.
* * *
High atop the promenade circling the White House roof, Griffin watched Marin pull away from Adam and scurry after the assistant usher. Minutes before, she’d been wandering around the South Lawn, almost as though she were in a trance. Griffin hated how much his chest ached at the sight of her, bewildered and lost among the crowd.Damn it.He needed to keep his objectivity in check, and his mind focused on finding The Artist. The link was somewhere in this White House, he was sure of it.
His cell phone buzzed.
“You were supposed to stick to her like glue,” Griffin barked at Adam.
“Dude, I’m headed to the kitchen now,” Adam snapped. “But I thought you might want to know that she’s pretty rattled about her sous chef being AWOL.”
“Me, too, since I need some answers from him.” Griffin had spent twelve hours trying to track down Diego Ruiz yesterday. But the guy seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Adam swore into the phone. “Griff, you’re not listening—shit!”
A shrill scream pierced the air. The sound came from the west side of the lawn near one of the covered pavilions. Griffin watched as two of the K-9s darted through the throng of visitors. Secret Service agents quickly surrounded the president and his family. The snipers stationed around the perimeter of the roof trained their rifles in the direction of the scream.
“False alarm,” Adam relayed from the ground. “The agents in the vicinity said a woman thought she saw a damn snake. It was actually one of the electrical cables.”
Griffin blew out a sigh of relief, shrugging off the tension that seemed to have his shoulders in a permanent death grip. “Then maybe you should get back to keeping watch over Marin.”
“Now that’s more like it,” Adam chuckled. “This is a protective detail, not a surveillance detail. I’ll keep your girl safe, Griff, don’t worry.”
“Damn it, Adam, that’s not what I meant,” Griffin yelled into the phone, but Adam had already disconnected.
He stormed along the promenade around to the solarium, and into the center hall. Charging toward the stairs, he stopped dead in his tracks when he almost collided with Marin.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, nearly toppling back on her ass.